


Dinner

by cucumber_of_doom



Category: Hannibal (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied Cannibalism, Sweeney Todd references, everything is funny to Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucumber_of_doom/pseuds/cucumber_of_doom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Jim gets an invitation for dinner, Hannibal thinks he is the only one who gets the joke and Sebastian actually knows which one is the salad fork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out different than planned, but hey: at least there is food.

Sebastian is not sure why they are here in Virginia instead of on their way back to London. 

Work had led Jim to a personal meeting wit Mr Hugh Jones, an ambitious but maddeningly unimaginative criminal from Baltimore. There had been negotiations, followed by dinner, more painfully boring meetings and a visit to the opera. Jones was boring, but had done his research about what might get him into Jim's favor. Even so, he had not gone deep enough to realize that those rumors had been spread by the consulting criminal himself in order to make business more fun and trick people into buying him presents. Potential clients went through all the trouble to buy themselves into Jim's favor, thinking themselves cunning when in fact they were doing exactly as planned.

It is the visit to the opera that introduces them to Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He and Jim start talking in the foyer after the show, which leaves Sebastian with an annoyed client but gains them a dinner invitation for Thursday night at the doctor's place. A psychiatrist. No one either of them would be willing to spend time with under normal circumstances, but clearly Jim sees something Sebastian doesn't.

Looking at the man made something uneasy stir in Sebastian's gut. 

Jim is surprisingly good-humored during the drive out to Doctor Lecter's house and even talks about concerts he would like to attend back in London, some of which he wants to make Sebastian attend with him. It is odd, not that he would voice that thought. Better not to antagonize Jim when he had one of his rare, nonthreatening moments.

When they exit the car in front of the surprisingly imposing house Doctor Lecter already awaits them, shirtsleeves rolled up but otherwise pristine. 

“Mr Moriarty, Mr Moran, what a pleasure you could find the time at such a short notice”, the doctor greets both of his guests, a polite host who guides them into a well heated dining room with an expertly set table in the center.

“It's a pleasure, Doctor Lecter,” Jim replies smoothly. “It should be me thanking you for going through all this trouble just for us.”

“I enjoy having people for dinner, Mr Moriarty.”

“You certainly do.”

The whole place looks expensive, Sebastian notes, too much old-world charm to fit into his idea of a private home here in the States.

Dimmed light, candles. Expensive, tastefully arranged furniture, everything inside feels too stuffy for Sebastian's tastes. The thing is, he knows Jim feels the same and still they are here and that puzzles him. Who is this man who invites two strangers into his home after a few minutes of small talk? Usually he would call a man like this naïve, but Sebastian would not have survived as long as he did if he could not pick out another predator. And Doctor Lecter? He is as dangerous as Jim. One reason more not to leave the two men alone.

He sits down across from Jim at the wooden dining table with Doctor Lecter seated at its head. The man pours each of them wine, something white and dry, but good enough as far as Sebastian can judge. 

“Ham vol au vent with roasted peppers on wild herb salad,” the doctor announces when bringing in the first course.

Sebastian uses the split-second in which the doctor turns his back to kick Jim under the table. 

“Wrong fork,” he mouthes as the other man glares at him, but he takes the hint and moves his hand towards the other fork. It seems like this is all Sebastian can do to be of use tonight.

There is more small talk, of course. Mostly between Doctor Lecter and Jim, naturally. Sebastian merely watches them eying each other.

Something about the doctor sets his alarms off, even if he can't point a finger at what exactly makes him uneasy. He wants to shove Jim into the trunk of their rental car and drag him back to London as fast as possible, but would not dare. Jim might be clever, but his definition of danger to his person differs from what Sebastian or anyone else would do. Not to forget that he would probably skin Sebastian for sabotaging his dinner plans. Hell, he would talk the sniper into doing the skinning himself.

Damn Jim and his curiosity.

Doctor Lecter refills their glasses and over the second course - filet mignon with orange-sauce and roasted vegetables – the sniper loses track of the conversation. Sometimes being with Jim is frustrating like this: being the only one who doesn't grab the deeper meaning of the inane words. At least the food and wine are excellent and Sebastian lets his mind drift for a bit while listening in to whatever Jim and their host deem sufficient dinner-conversation. They are discussing cooking. 

Sebastian is still tense – nothing he could do anything about as long as Jim is out here in potential danger - but the wine helps keep him outwardly calm and makes his head buzz pleasantly. Jim on the other hand looks genuinely relaxed and entertained when he sets his napkin aside to speak again after finishing half of the meat on his plate. 

“You are an incredible talented cook, Doctor Lecter. Where did you pick up that skill?” he asks and the doctor seems overly pleased with the question. Not that Sebastian would learn anything from the cryptic answer. It is enough if Jim does. He is the interesting guest, after all.

“Every man needs his hobbies, Mr Moriarty. Some people paint, some people go fishing. Personally, I prefer the culinary arts, which goes incredible well with my fascination for people. It is the best way to truly get to know someone.”

“I can't argue with that statement. It certainly brings people... closer together on a very basic level.”

The smile on doctor Lecter's face seems predatory for a second.

“How do you prefer to pass your time, Mr Moriarty?”

“I am very fond of chess,” Jim replies with just a hint of teeth.

It is the last thing that really registers with Sebastian. Maybe there was something in the wine, he thinks. He will never know for sure.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

The next thing he knows is when he stands in the foyer and helps Jim into his coat. He feels weird and probably should not drive, but what the heck. Jim is still alive and it is not as if the other man never drugged him unknowingly. It is annoying and for a second just the tiniest bit frightening, but that is all. 

Back in the car Sebastian waits until the building vanishes in the rearview-mirror before he dares to relax even a fraction. He is still a bit dizzy and the feeling of something being fundamentally wrong stays. In the morning they will board the plane to London and within a few long hours will be safely back in Jim's domain. 

Next to him, Jim reclines his seat and stretches like a sated cat.

“How did you enjoy Mr Jones this evening, Seb?”

“As far as I recall, he wasn't present today, boss.”

“Oh, he was,” Jim chuckles.

Sebastian sighs.

“And where, boss, would he have been? Please enlighten me.”

“Right in our middle, Seb.”

“I am pretty sure I would have noticed. That guy is too loud not to.”

“Doctor Lecter turned him into better company than he has ever been while alive. And he smelled better too, especially covered in orange-sauce.”

Sebastian sets out to answer but stops. He doesn't like the thought that starts to form.

“Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke.”

Jim merely grins.

“Don't worry, Seb, Jones paid me in advance.”

“I don't care if the little fucker paid you or not. Just tell me you didn't knowingly agreed to have dinner with a bloody cannibal.”

It says a lot about Sebastian's life that this bothers him more than the fact he had human flesh for dinner. 

“I merely suspected at the opera, but now? Yes, he is. Quite entertaining, that man. And a really good cook. Maybe I could hire him?”

“Please don't," Sebastian says with a frown and Jim chuckles.

“You are right, he would never agree anyway. It would be a shame if I had to have you shoot him.”

"I never thought I would ever say this, but Boss, please stick to the Holmes brothers. As least I don't need to worry about them eating you.“

That comment makes the criminal laugh.

“Go find out if there are any former cooks or bakers under my employees.”

“No.”

“But Seb, the idea is good. It is elegant. It is the perfect way of body-disposal. We could open a pie-shop, just like in that movie. It would be glorious.”

Nice, now the boss starts whining, Sebastian thinks. Not that it would help right now. Being the sane person in Jim's life might not always be the easiest job, but someone has to do it.

“No. Just... no.”

Jim pouts.

“And, boss?”

“What?”

“You are not going to cook anything in the near future. And no more musicals for you. Ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to DreammasterLoki for doing an awesome job as a beta reader :)


End file.
